


Evening

by AntarcticBird



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2726723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you think we'll still be living in New York when we're old?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evening

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [klaineadvent](http://klaineadvent.tumblr.com/) Day 5: Evening

“Do you think we'll still be living in New York when we're old?” Blaine asks, and Kurt looks up from his laptop finds Blaine standing by the window where the light is fading fast, looking outside with a far-away expression on his face.

“What?”

“I mean, it's a big city,” Blaine explains. “And it's loud and there are … stairs and, you know, streets and noise and I was just wondering, it might not be so easy to navigate all of that with a walker and a hearing aid, and -”

“Blaine, you're twenty-five,” Kurt reminds him, smiling. “We're a long way from all of that yet.”

“No, I know.” Blaine smiles back at him over his shoulder before making his way across the soft carpet on socked feet to sit down next to him, shrugging. “It's silly. Just – do you ever think about it? What you want it to be like?”

Kurt closes his laptop, sets it down on the coffee table, resigned to the fact that he won't be answering any more emails for now, and bites his lip, already lost in thought. “Well, obviously we'll both be retiring from successful acting and singing careers, so wherever we end up, we'd probably want it to be quiet, right?”

Blaine nods, his grin turning excited now that Kurt is playing along. “Definitely! Somewhere out of the way, maybe a house? An old farm house!”

“With a little garden for you,” Kurt agrees. “You'll learn to grow tomatoes and cucumbers and maybe we'll have a dog. I think I'd like to have a dog.”

“You won't let me have one now!”

“Blaine, we live in a _shoebox_ , how do you think you can actually fit a dog into this apartment?”

“I know, I know, I just -”

“My dad is thinking about getting a runner duck for the backyard because they eat the slugs that would otherwise destroy the vegetables, we could get some of those? You should look up pictures on the internet, they're kind of funny, actually.”

Blaine nods. “And maybe the place will have an old barn where we can set up a workshop for you. You know, to work with your hands. I know you'll miss your projects once your career really takes off, but there you could have it again, I mean, that's sort of the _point_ of getting away from it all, isn't it?”

“I like that idea.” Kurt turns sideways in his seat, one leg folded under so he can rest his head against the backrest of the couch, smiling at Blaine lazily. “You'll look good with gray hair.”

“Maybe I'll just go bald instead.”

“Maybe.”

“Oh my god.” Blaine looks shocked. “I never even really thought of that. What if I lose all my hair?”

Kurt shakes his head, grins. “Well, obviously I'll stop loving you immediately and go find someone younger and hairier.”

Blaine pouts at him. “I knew it!”

“I might go bald too, you know? With liver spots all over my shiny, bald head. My dad is bald.”

“Oh, shut up,” Blaine says, leaning his head against the couch so their faces are inches apart, smiles. “You'll be the sexiest old man alive. You know, sort of a Sean Connery or Richard Gere type, and pretty young things will be throwing themselves at you from all directions hoping to steal you away from me. I might actually have to fight them off with a stick.”

“You're ridiculous,” Kurt says on the end of a breathless, amused laugh, lightly punching Blaine in the shoulder. “I'll probably just be wrinkly and forgetful and embarrassing, while you turn into our generation's Ian McKellen. With Sam as your Patrick Stewart. You'll see.”

Blaine laughs out loud, scrunching up his nose at Kurt. “I think I'll just get rounder the older I get. I mean,” he pats his belly where the shirts always stretch a bit, grins. “I have _this_ already, and now imagine it fifty years from now. It'll be so much more. You'll still be a star, I'll just be a planet instead.”

He sounds more contently amused then worried, so Kurt grins, leans in for a quick kiss. “You'll be adorable with your creaky joints and your old man belly. You know I'll love that belly as much as I love any other part of you, don't you?”

“I actually do believe you,” Blaine says, taking his hand and linking their fingers together. “You always did have a strange fascination with it.”

Kurt reaches out with his free hand, rubs the body part in question lightly, affectionately. “It's cute, okay? And it's the perfect spot for me to put my head when we watch TV, it would only be fair for you to make it softer the frailer my old bones get.”

“We could have a library in our house. Just, you know. One room. With lots of bookshelves and arm chairs and a fireplace.”

“We'll need guest rooms too for the kids and grandkids,” Kurt says, and he can already see all of it, the whole beautiful, quiet, calm evening of their lives stretching out before them, love and contentment and not a boring moment ever because Blaine will be there and nothing is ever boring with Blaine.

He can see it, see _him_ , a little shorter, a little rounder, with wrinkled skin and bushy eyebrows growing all over the place and his bright, sunny smile that lights up a whole day. And he can see himself there, old and a little calmer and a lot slower and still so, so in love with Blaine.

But that's _then_ and this is still _now_ and Kurt squeezes his hand a little and can't look away; Blaine is the loveliest sight he has ever seen and sometimes he can't believe how lucky he's been, and they're so young still.

If they do get to that house and that dog and the library and the garden, he'll be the happiest man in the world. For now, he has Blaine in the present and that alone is more happiness than he can bear sometimes.

“What do you think old people sex is like?” Blaine asks, sounding curious.

Kurt drops his hand, rolls his eyes at him. “We are _not_ discussing that, oh my _god_ , Blaine -”

“So, you're not thinking about it at all?” Blaine asks innocently. “Don't you ever even wonder how often we'll still be – or what position we'll be preferring then, I mean, what will happen if I ever get knee problems, have you thought about that?”

Kurt gets up off the couch, covering his ears as he starts walking towards the bathroom. “I'm done talking about this now! I'm taking a shower and you can get started on dinner so that we -”

“Wait, I'm coming with you,” Blaine decides, jumping up to hurry after him.

“Blaine, we'll not be talking about old people sex in the shower or I _swear_ there won't be any young people sex for you in there either!”

“I haven't developed knee problems _yet_ ,” Blaine reminds him. “So if I promise to be very quiet?”

Kurt laughs, grabs for his wrist to pull him into the bathroom. “Come on then, while we're still young!”

Blaine kicks the door closed behind them, spins him around to lean up for a kiss, and then another one, and another, and then he's kissing all over Kurt's face, silly happy little pecks everywhere he can reach.

And Kurt wraps his arms around his shoulders and laughs as he tries kissing back and he knows that they're young now, and he knows that their evening will come. But he's not worried. Standing here with Blaine and feeling safe and being in love, all he feels is hopeful.


End file.
